


Love Like This

by lolly_cj



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Memory Loss, Post-War, Slow Burn, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-20 07:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolly_cj/pseuds/lolly_cj
Summary: Hermione Granger and Lucius Malfoy made an unlikely couple and they ruffled a fair few feathers in the wizarding world. They were well aware of that fact.They thought the uproar surrounding their relationship had died down. They were happy in the life they had made together. They certainly didn't think their lives would be turned upside down when someone tried to take it from them.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Theodore Nott, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 31
Kudos: 46





	1. An unfamiliar place

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I love this pairing and first started reading them during the first lockdown last year. This is my first fanfic and I've had the idea for this story floating around in my head for a little while so I've decided to bite the bullet and write it. We often see the stories of how these two are placed back in each other's lives and how they come together but I thought it would be interesting to explore the dynamic of the two of them in an established relationship. 
> 
> This is meant as pure escapism, for myself and for anyone reading and I do enjoy a happy ending so if at any point you get fed up with the slow burn or some of the angstier moments please know that I do intend to make it all end happily. 
> 
> I'd love any feedback and am writing this on my own without anyone to proof read it so I'd welcome constructive criticism but please be gentle with me!
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Lucius roused slowly, his eyes flickering open to light streaming in through a crack in the curtains. As he adjusted in bed, he winced at the feel of a knot at the base of his neck and a headache which was beginning to make itself known. He mentally berated himself for clearly overindulging in the contents of his wine cellar before bed. Raising his head to bark out orders for an elf to bring him a hangover potion, he froze. 

There was the sound of a running shower in the adjoining bathroom. This would not typically be cause for alarm, if not for the fact that he now lived alone. Narcissa had buggered off and filed for divorce as soon as his wizengamot hearing had concluded. The marriage had been strained for some time, not at all helped by his stint in Azkaban and the year spent with the reptilian interloper in their home. The Dark Lord’s quite frankly embarrassing defeat at the hands of a teenage boy’s amateur expelliarmus curse had made him persona non grata in the eyes of the wizarding world and Narcissa had been eager to distance herself from the Malfoy name. Ms. Black now resided at her family chateau in France, Draco more than happy to join her and escape the house of horrors. He did miss having company at times but was pleased to no longer be subject to frosty glares across the table at dinner. 

He supposed he had been somewhat subdued following the litany of karmic smacks to the face he’d received following the Dark Lord’s return; it was doubtful however that this would have relaxed his elves enough to see this as an invitation to take liberties by using his personal facilities. Baffled as to how someone had breached his wards, especially impressive since the Ministry had only approved Draco, his personal healer and his assigned auror entry to his home under his strict house arrest, he sat up and reached for his wand. As he did so, a hideous realisation dawned on him. 

This was not his bedroom. Nor did he recognise it as one of the guest bedrooms at the manor, granted there were a staggering amount of them. He quickly looked around and took stock of his surroundings, the room was spacious and from what he could make out in the dimly lit room, it seemed to be ornately furnished. A dark blue chaise lounge was situated diagonally in the corner of the room, directly opposite from where the bed was facing was a mahogany french style dressing table. The surface housed a perfume bottle and a jewellery box, it seemed this was a woman's bedroom. The water stopped running and Lucius quickly lay back down, turned onto his left-hand side on the edge of the bed and feigned sleep. 

The door opened about thirty seconds later and he heard the patter of bare feet against the hardwood floors. He picked up the sound of something scraping softly against the floor and a slight rustle. The footsteps sounded a little louder until they arrived right next to him and picked up something from the bedside table beside his head. There was the tiniest waft of air which tickled his face and signaled to him that his abductor had turned around again. One good thing he’d gained from his year of living in constant fear from his maniacal master and demented former sister-in-law was his heightened senses. He surreptitiously opened his eyes to get a look at the retreating form of his abductor. His suspicions were correct, this was most definitely a woman. 

A woman with lovely delicate ankles, gorgeously shapely calves and – no, no he most definitely should not be checking out whatever madwoman had managed to break into his home and kidnap him. Clearly his neglected libido from his solitary lifestyle was more of an issue than he thought if he was more focused on getting an eyeful rather than plotting his escape. An escape which should prove easy given his captor was a dainty woman who seemed remarkably relaxed and was going about her morning routine as if she hadn’t left her prisoner unbound in her own bloody bedroom. She was either extraordinarily confident in her own defensive capabilities should he try to attack her, or she was monumentally stupid. 

Whilst she continued with her morning ablutions in the bathroom he turned to the opposite side of the bed, hopefully when she returned to the bedroom he’d have a better visual of her person. He chanced a peek a few minutes later to see her sat on the chaise lounge, he could only see her side profile from the way the bastard thing was angled, his view further obscured by the cascade of caramel brown curls. She was slathering lotion into her calves, ah so smooth as well as shapely – damn you man, get it together. After she finished massaging her legs, a sight he really had enjoyed she reached up with a slender, nicely manicured hand to sweep the hair from her face. The face that was revealed to him left him stunned. 

If he was not mistaken, that was the face of Hermione Granger. Of course, he wasn’t mistaken, she featured at least weekly in the Daily Prophet alongside the bespectacled little upstart and the youngest Weasley boy. Was this some sort of revenge plot against him? As soon as he left the manor the aurors would have been alerted and he’d be thrown into Azkaban to finish the rest of his five year house arrest. 

He cast his mind back, he couldn’t recall doing anything to her personally. Other than the torture session she endured in his home; he didn’t really think it was fair to pin that on him though. Bellatrix had been obliterated by Arthur Weasley’s wife so perhaps she felt he was the next best option for payback. Although weren’t Gryffindors and Order members supposed to be paragons of virtue, he was sure kidnapping and imprisonment would not have been in that old codger Dumbledore’s handbook. 

Not to worry, this halfcocked abduction would be over in no time, he’d make his escape and contact Kingsley. He’d offer to take veritaserum to prove he had not left the manor of his own volition, no doubt the esteemed Minister for Magic would sweep the criminal escapades of his golden girl under the rug but at least he wouldn't face Azkaban again. Anything but that. 

She still had not paid any attention to him, returning to the bathroom. This was his window to leave, he turned back to his left side which faced the bedroom door and made to quietly get out of bed. As he did so, the glint of a silver photo frame on the bedside table caught his eye and made him draw a sharp breath. He’d failed to properly assess the situation; the girl was deranged. A still photograph, presumably muggle given her mudblood status depicted the pair of them mid dance, her clasped to him, his hand on her lower back with his head thrown back in laughter and her gazing adoringly up at him. Begrudgingly, he had to give her credit, whatever she had done to conjure such an image, it was impressive for it looked incredibly realistic. 

The fact remained that it was not a real image. For one, he had been confined to his home for the past six months, secondly had he not been under house arrest he doubted his reputation would have bounced back quickly enough for him to be invited to what looked like a grand event and lastly and perhaps most importantly, he would never be found in such a compromising position with a mudblood. 

Perhaps she hadn’t brought him here to exact revenge, the Granger girl was clearly obsessed with him. He’d been aware of the effect he had on the opposite sex since he was a teenager. He was a Malfoy, the wealthiest family in wizarding Britain, he’d always had a way with words and could charm most people at the drop of a hat. Add to that what was clearly a handsome face and well-muscled physique and you had quite possibly the most eligible man in Britain. Aside from his son. He hadn’t expected it of her, given he had been a prominent member of an organisation which stood to eradicate her kind but clearly his appeal ran far and wide. 

He’d been deep in thought so hadn’t noticed her approaching the bed again. The mattress dipped where she perched next to him and his eyes tracked her hand as she reached out and brushed some of his hair behind his ear. Their eyes connected and she smiled gently down at him. 

“Morning love, you were out for the count this morning. I thought you wanted to make an early start hmmm, enjoy our alone time”. 

Yes, I was out for the count you mad bitch, you clearly drugged me to drag me back here. She began to lean forward slowly, her intent clear as her face descended towards his. Enough of this, he thought. He gripped the wrist of the hand still tangled in his hair as tightly as he could, which halted her progress as she looked at him in confusion. 

In a measured tone and with as cold a voice as he could muster, he spoke plainly. “Miss Granger, cease your molestation immediately”. 

The confused look on her face remained momentarily before a sly smile and a slight tightening around the corners of her eyes appeared. 

“Miss Granger? I didn’t think you’d have any energy left after last night but if you want to play, you know I’m always game, Mr. Malfoy.” With that, she quickly swung her legs up on to the bed and straddled his lower abdomen. 

Taken aback by her response, he grabbed her upper arms and shoved her to the right side of him where she rolled off the bed and landed on the floor with a slight thud. 

“Ow, Lucius. You didn’t have to be so heavy handed,” she glared up at him. 

“Lucius? I do not remember granting you permission to address me so informally.” 

To this, she rolled her eyes, “You can stop that now, funnily enough, I’m not really in the mood anymore after being launched from our bed. I always forget how much you piss me off when you’re hungover, you arse”. 

He blinked at her; she really was intent on playing out her little fantasy. 

“No, really darling I’m fine. I doubt it’ll bruise but thanks ever so for asking if I’m alright”, she trilled in a sing song voice. “Tippy!!”, she called out. 

A house elf in a light pink pinafore popped into the room and looked up at her with a bright smile. “Could you be a dear and fetch a hangover potion for this grouch”, she gestured with a nod of her head in his direction. 

The elf reappeared a moment later with a small vial containing a blue liquid. “You’re an angel as always, Tippy”, she spoke softly to the elf as she took it from her tiny hand and then held it out towards him. 

Bellatrix must have held her under the cruciatus curse for longer than he remembered if the girl was mentally deficient enough to think he’d be taking anymore concoctions from her of his own free will. 

“Obviously, I will not be drinking whatever is in that vial”, he hissed at her. 

“What are you talking about? Whatever is in the vial? As if you wouldn’t trust our own potion master with your life”, she laughed softly. “Please hurry up and take that so I can have the version of you I actually like back and we can go out for breakfast like we planned.” 

“Listen here girl, I’ve had quite enough of this little charade. I won’t press charges if you direct me to the nearest exit and allow me to leave immediately. Is there a connecting floo or can I apparate directly from the property?” 

Again, the little chit deigned to roll her eyes at him. 

“Lucius, you know I’m always happy to indulge you in role play but I at least need a heads up if you want throw a new scenario into the mix.” 

No, he’d had well and truly had enough now. He gathered her addled mind had drawn up some far-fetched fantasies, but she didn’t seem completely unhinged and given there was no wand in her hand she didn’t pose an immediate threat to him. It was time to change tactic. 

He flung his feet from the bed and began stalking over to where she stood on the opposite side of the room. He set his face into a snarl and grabbed her by the upper arms, looming over her. 

“Be a sensible girl and cooperate with me this instant, or you will not like the consequences.” He registered a slight flicker of fear, good it was time she remembered who it was she was dealing with. 

She spoke calmly, “Darling, you’re starting to freak me out, can we please stop this now.” 

“I’d very much like to stop this, you little bitch!” he had raised his voice and shook her as he said this, clearly his once reliable menacing rasp did not provide results with her. 

“Lucius! That hurts, please let go,” her voice was shaking now. 

“You think I WANT to touch YOU??,” he shoved her away from him and marched out of the bedroom. 

He exited the bedroom to a wide hallway, he paced down it quickly towards the top of a staircase. He could hear her feet running after him. The girl really didn’t know what was good for her. 

“Lucius, Lucius, you’re really scaring me now!”. 

He could hear the tears in her shaky voice. If he had truly scared her then she’d be better off staying in her room until he’d left her Gods forsaken house, the stupid girl. 

“Please, please just wait – I'm worried you’re hurt,” she called after him. 

She really must be desperate to keep him here, he thought. She was a newly minted war heroine, surely men with much lower standards than him were lining up at her door. Any initial interest they had in her must surely dissipate once they discovered what a fruitcake she was, though. 

“Just tell me, do you remember hitting your head last night? Please Lucius, answer me.” 

At this, he spun round to face her again, “I don’t remember anything from last night, as I think you well know, Miss Granger!”. 

There were tears making their way down her face now. “Just, just please answer me this -”, she stopped to take a deep breath and seemingly steady herself. 

“Who, who am I to you?”, she asked in a quiet voice. 

“Who are you to me?”, he bellowed. “You are a jumped up little mudblood who seems to have lost her tiny little mind!”. 

She let out what sounded like a squeak of anguish and fresh tears flooded from her eyes, following the path of previous tear tracks. 

“What year do you think it is?”. 

He barked out a laugh, she was grasping at straws. “Your little ploy has failed, Granger. You’ll find I’m not an easy man to trick, I imagine the dimwitted fools whose company you keep would make for a much more easily duped plaything.” 

“Alright, alright. I understand if you don’t want to speak to me but please you have to believe me when I say you’re not well”. 

He had to give it to her, she really had committed to the part she was playing. Her next sentence, however, was her downfall. 

“If you just come downstairs with me and take a seat, I’ll fetch Draco and he can take you to St. Mungo’s.” 

“Ah, Miss Granger, you clearly have not done your research. My son despises me and would be more likely to accede to a request to accompany a blast-ended skrewt to hospital than myself.” 

She raised her hands placatingly, “Lucius, we saw him yesterday and he is perfectly happy to be in your presence, I promise you.” 

“My son has not seen fit to speak to me since he moved out from the manor six months ago and I doubt he will again any time soon. Now, we have established that I have seen through whatever rouse you have cooked up and I am going home!”. 

The nausea which was swirling in her stomach felt as if it were rising into her throat. 

She swallowed, “This is your home Lucius, we’ve lived here for the past five years.” 

He raised one eyebrow and spoke mockingly, “You expect me to believe, that we reside here together?” 

“Well, as husbands and wives typically live together....” 

Scoffing, he replied “Allow me to give you a piece of advice from a consummate Slytherin and seasoned manipulator. The most successful way to deceive someone is to at least make your lie authentic.” 

She managed a weak smile, “If anyone were to tell my younger self this in 1998, my reaction would be one of disbelief too. But Lucius, it isn’t 1998 and it hasn’t been for some time which is why we need to get you to a healer. Ask me anything about yourself, something only those closest to you would know.” 

“Like what? My star sign? Greatest fear? Favourite colour? Or my favourite food perhaps?” 

If this was how he wanted to play it then fine. She steeled herself and took a deep breath. 

“Your birthday is the 14th of May which makes you a Taurus. Your greatest fear is dying alone, after any harm befalling your loved ones. Contrary to what most would assume, your favourite colour is a deep sapphire blue. You have a monstrous sweet tooth which is where Draco gets it from and have a sticky toffee pudding for dessert every Sunday in the Autumn and Winter without fail.” 

She noticed that despite trying to keep a cool face, his eyes had widened ever so slightly. Amongst her increasing panic and rapidly beating heartrate, she allowed herself to feel a little smug and decided to continue. 

“If we were talking about your favourite meal, it would have to be carbonara. You could eat any pasta by the bucketload but only ever eat spaghetti if we’re at home or dining out with family as you think twirling it on your fork makes you look undignified. If you are eating during a business dinner you always order red meat, usually steak cooked rare as you think it makes you look tough and masculine which quite frankly is one of the most ridiculous things about you in my eyes.” 

He was silent for about ten seconds before speaking. 

“You were once touted as ‘The Brightest Witch of Her Age’, if that is to be believed then surely you are proficient at legilimency. Any half decent legilimens would have been able to pluck such basic information from my head when I was asleep.” 

“I am not a legilimens, if I had any veritaserum to hand I would gladly take it to prove myself to you, but we really don’t have time to waste. I only have your best interests at heart I swear to you -” 

She was cut off by the flap of wings and hooting which was coming from downstairs. That would be today’s Daily Prophet, she nearly cried out loud with relief. 

“I can show you the date on today's paper, just wait here and I’ll be right back.” 

She bounded down the stairs, taking them three at a time and skidded into the dining room which was just off the downstairs hallway. Sure enough, today’s Daily Prophet was lying in the middle of the dining table. She scooped it up and ran back out to the hallway where Lucius was making his way to the front door. 

Hermione grabbed his arm and tried to turn him towards her. Only half successful, she dangled the paper in front of his face. 

He stilled completely as she held her breath. He took the paper from her with one hand and stared at the front page intently. 

“I....I don’t understand. What on earth is -” 

His speech was cut off by his sharp intake of breath, and with his free hand he grasped at his stomach and staggered back against the wall. 

“Gahh”, he doubled over with pain and slid down the wall. 

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat as she crouched down to attend to him. 

She tried to place her hand behind his head to help lower him to lie on the floor, as she did so he cried out in pain. 

“What is it, Lucius? Please tell me where you are in pain.” 

He looked as if he were about to answer but he started choking and blood began trickling out of the corner of his mouth. 

Hermione had her hand held to his cheek and was trying to support his head with her other arm. 

“Stay calm, love. I’m going to get you help. It’s going to be alright.” 

She must have chanted variations of this in the time it took to wordlessly accio her wand from upstairs and into her free hand. She managed to grasp it firmly and with a crack they disappeared from the hallway.


	2. St Mungo's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I just wanted to say a big thank you to those that read and commented on the first chapter. Your reviews were really encouraging and I'm so glad the premise of the story has been well received. Hopefully what's to come won't disappoint!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

Growing up in the muggle world, she could remember coming home from primary school one day, her father having picked her up from the school gates and taking her straight home. A rarity as she would usually spend the few hours after her school day at her parent’s surgery, waiting for them to finish up their appointments for the day. A routine she relished as Mrs. Robinson, their receptionist would always be waiting with a glass of cordial and a plate of digestive biscuits and she could sit in the oversized swivel chair in her parent’s office, book in hand and feeling ever so grown up. 

Her father sat her down in their sitting room and explained her grandmother had been taken ill. She’d suffered a heart attack that morning and been rushed to hospital, her mother had been with her since, and they’d shortly be going to join her. Lying in the hospital bed unconscious, her grandmother hooked up to all sorts of machines, each making their own intermittent noises, she couldn’t remember having ever felt so unsettled. Her mother offered her a small, watery smile and beckoned her into the room while her father went to her side to offer comfort. Despite her parents trying to explain her grandmother’s condition and offer reassurances that they and the doctors were hopeful she would recover, she felt far removed from the entire situation. It was the exact same feeling she had now. 

Lucius lay in his hospital bed, unnaturally still. Hermione was sat in a chair to his right side, his hand clasped tightly in hers. She’d been fortunate enough to not have had to enter a hospital as a visitor to a loved one since that day and that unsettling feeling was lying heavy in her chest as clear as if it were yesterday. This time though, it was the absence of wires and loud, upsetting beeping that left her so unsettled. 

She’d never doubted the ability of magic to do its job before, not unless one included flying on a broomstick. Would the spells that were monitoring his condition hold? Would the healers be alerted right away if there were any changes? Surely, there should be some sort of display of his heartrate and blood pressure? How infallible was the magic keeping him alive and did she trust it with her husband’s life? She supposed, there was no guarantee any muggle technology would not fail him either. No, she’d be left feeling this helplessness and uncertainty no matter what world he was being treated in. 

She’d had the presence of mind to send her Patronus to Draco as soon as Lucius had been taken to his room and stabilised but her faculties seemed to have since abandoned her. Trapped within her own thoughts, she’d been cradling her husband’s limp hand and had barely registered the world around her unless the healers had been speaking to her directly. 

Draco was stood in the doorway with the healer, asking him a few further questions about how they should proceed. Hermione had just about managed to concentrate with her mind going a mile a minute when the healer had explained what had happened to Lucius. Internal bleeding caused by damage to his liver and kidneys, most likely something he’d ingested. The inference was clear, to have caused such corrosive damage, it had to have been a poison. 

“This is outrageous! I want aurors here now. If someone tried to bloody well kill him then we need security outside his room.” He shooed away the healer and re-entered the room. 

“Well Granger, it seems your insistence on keeping Saint Potter in your life is finally going to pay off. Let’s get him here and he can start the investigation, I won’t settle for less than the Head Auror on his case.” 

Silence. 

“Granger?” 

When she didn’t give any sign that she’d heard his voice he made his way over to the chair she was sat in and crouched until he was at her level. He touched her shoulder gently, “Hermione?” 

Her eyes remained firmly on Lucius as she spoke in a quiet monotone, “When I was a little girl, my grandmother had a heart attack. It came out of nowhere, she’d always been in perfect health, she was seventy-six years old, but you’d never have known it to look at her. She was still active, volunteered at the local hospital three days a week, went on long country walks with her rambling group. She ran a marathon to raise money for charity at sixty-two for goodness sake”. 

She shook her head slightly and huffed a little laugh, “Anyway, point is my mother was in bits. I heard her talking to my father and she said she didn’t understand how life could change so suddenly at any moment, we never know when it might happen. I get that now.” 

Eyes welling up rapidly, she broke out of her reverie and turned to Draco as her tears fell. “Last night we were all out at my birthday dinner and everything was fine. Three hours ago, I was in the bloody shower, we’re supposed to be having brunch at our café right now.” 

“How has this happened, Draco....how? Why would someone do this?” 

Draco quickly leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, Hermione completely collapsing into floods of tears as she allowed herself to be enveloped in his embrace. 

“Shhhhh, shhhhhh” 

They stayed like this for the next few minutes until her tears slowly subsided. 

“Now, Granger. We will find out who did this. The healers have stabilised him and the potions they’ve given him will fix the damage to his organs. For the minute, he’s safe and we’re safe. Ok?” 

The slow and business-like way in which he spoke managed to calm her. She nodded slowly. 

“Good. I hate to point this out, Granger, but you are sat here in what I’m assuming is your dressing gown.” 

Oh, god. He was right. She was sat here in her periwinkle blue silk robe without even a scrap of underwear on underneath. 

“Surely you’ll feel more ready to tackle the world in true Gryffindor like fashion once you’re dressed. Why don’t you pop back home and -” 

“No. NO Draco, I’m not leaving his side.” 

Holding his hands up he said, “Alright, I thought that was unlikely, why don’t you call Tippy to bring you some clothes?” 

“Oh, she can’t see Lucius like this, she’ll be absolutely beside herself.” 

He groaned, “Ugh, I forgot you have the most dramatic elf to have ever graced this planet.” 

“It’s sweet she cares so much; she only means well.” 

“Yes, yes. Right then, you stay here with Father and I’ll go to your house and fetch you some clothes. What would you like?” 

“Um, could you ask Tippy to find my jeans and one of my jumpers. She must be worried after we left so suddenly and didn’t tell her. Would you please fill her in? But break it to her gently.” 

“Will do, I won’t be long. Chin up, Granger.” 

“Thank you, Draco.” 

Once he’d left the room, Hermione turned her full attention back to Lucius. She raised the hand she was holding to the side of her face and pressed it to her cheek. 

“Please wake up soon, love. Please wake up and please, please know me. I need you.” She turned her face into his palm and pressed a long, lingering kiss to it. 

Draco returned about twenty minutes later, a tray floating after him. 

“I brought sustenance!” 

Hermione managed a small smile, she felt she owed it to him to at least appear brightened by his efforts. He set the tray down and on it she spied a pot of tea, two teacups and scones. 

“My mission was successful, I informed Tippy of the ongoing situation, subsequently calmed said elf back down from the edge of hysteria and retrieved your clothes.” 

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small package which he then enlarged and handed over to her. 

“Thank you... was Tippy really that bad?” 

“She immediately burst into tears, started wailing and attempted to throw herself from your third-floor staircase for not noticing he was ill herself.” 

“Oh God”, Hermione groaned. 

“She’s fine, I instructed her not to harm herself and sent her through to Theo and Daph’s to wait for news. Who by the way, send you a big hug and said not to worry about anything - everything is completely fine their end and she can stay with them as long as necessary.” 

“I hadn’t even thought to check in with them, oh how could I have forgotten?”, she put her head in her hands and felt a fresh bout of tears prickling her eyes. 

“Easy Granger, your husband is lying unconscious in a hospital bed. I think you can be forgiven”, he said in a sarcastic tone. 

Said tears started flowing as she let out a little sob. 

“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry Hermione.” 

“No, no. I’m fine,” she waved him off. “I’m just going to get changed.” 

Once in the bathroom adjoining the hospital room, she got a look at herself in the mirror. Her face was blotchy, eyes bloodshot and bags under her eyes. After splashing water on her face and casting a few cleaning spells to freshen herself up, she opened the package. Placed on the top of a small pile of clothes was a handkerchief with a big embroidered pink love heart in the centre of the fabric. Bless Tippy’s little heart. She dressed quickly and went to resume her place at Lucius’ side. 

They sat in quiet companionship until the healer returned half an hour later. 

“Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy”, he acknowledged. He hovered his wand over Lucius’ abdomen and seemed to give a short nod to himself. 

“Both his liver and kidneys are healing well. I don’t expect any lasting damage.” 

Hermione and Draco both gave a sigh of relief. 

“Now, Mrs. Malfoy. You mentioned earlier that he had problems with his memory when he first woke up?” 

“Yes, Healer Collins. He had absolutely no idea where he was or who I was to him. He couldn’t recall the last eight years of his life!” 

“Mrs. Malfoy, please try not to panic. It is possible that whatever poison was used caused a side effect of amnesia. There is no reason to believe that he won’t wake up with his memory intact.” 

“When do you expect him to wake up?”, Draco questioned. 

“I’m reluctant to wake him up with the aid of magic given the possibility of memory issues, however I shall consult some of my colleagues who specialise in neurological injuries.” 

“Please, do.” 

With that, the healer left the room. Hermione and Draco shared a small smile and Hermione whipped her wand in the air and said clearly “Expecto Patronum”. 

A burst of white, silvery light puffed from the end of her wand and materialised into a white lioness in front of them. 

“Harry, please come to St. Mungo’s as soon as possible. I’m fine but Lucius is hurt, and we believe someone may have poisoned him.” She spoke clearly and with a flick of her wand the lioness bounded from sight. 

In record timing, the door burst open to reveal Harry Potter. Wearing dark blue jeans, a navy sweatshirt, his hair dishevelled and glasses askew on the bridge of his nose, he’d clearly rushed here. 

“You do realise we asked you here to report a crime to the Head Auror, not for urgent medical assistance. You could have at least dressed for polite company, Potter.” 

Harry elected to ignore Draco and focused solely on Hermione, wrapping her in a tight hug. 

“Tell me everything so far.” 

Once he’d been fully filled in, he straightened and went straight to business mode. Hermione was reminded why he was the youngest Head Auror in history, not just his status as the Saviour of the wizarding world but his ability to rally in a crisis. 

“Right, I’ll head straight to the ministry and put a team together. We’ll start by heading to the restaurant and gathering the names of everyone there, staff and diners.” As he got up from his chair, he turned and knocked the table housing the tray from earlier, spilling the now cooling tea from the cups. 

Draco rolled his eyes, “We’re just brimming with confidence, Potter.” 

Harry spoke to Hermione once more before leaving, “We’ll find out who did this, Hermione. I promise.” 

Five minutes later, Draco rose, “I’m going to track down the healer, I thought he’d be back with answers by now.” 

“Draco, don’t badger him - I’m sure he’s busy.” 

“Busy? I should damn well hope he’s busy, busy healing my father. It’s not as if we don’t donate enough of our galleons to this place, he should be their top priority!” 

A split second later the door opened and Healer Collins entered with his colleague in tow. There was a momentary awkwardness that fell upon the room as it became clear they had heard Draco’s raised voice. 

“Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy. Please allow me to introduce you to my esteemed colleague, Healer Thistle. He has some thoughts on how best to proceed. Geoffrey, if you will?” 

“There is a way that I can scan Mr. Malfoy’s brain to see if there are signs that an obliviation has taken place. If there has, I would not recommend waking him ourselves and risk harming a mind that has been so recently tampered with. If there are no traces of obliviation, I see no reason we cannot wake him immediately.” 

Hermione looked to Draco, he nodded. 

“Then please Healer Thistle, start the scan.” 

He stepped up to Lucius’ bedside and began hovering his wand slowly, back and forth across his forehead. A violet light encompassed the area surrounding his entire head, little squiggling lines moving erratically within it until a few seconds later they stopped. 

“I detect no signs that an obliviate spell has been performed.” 

Hermione and Draco breathed a collective sigh of relief and Healer Collins stepped forward. 

“Let us wake him then. I feel I must warn you both, when he wakes, he may be disoriented and confused by his surroundings. This is normal so please do not panic if that is the case.” 

Hermione held Lucius’s hand and Draco stood at the foot of the bed. Healer Collins moved to the opposite side of the bed and cast the spell. 

“Rennervate.” 

A few seconds later, Lucius Malfoy woke for the second time that morning. His eyelids flickered a few times before they opened properly and saw the healers. Then, he looked ahead and his eyes zeroed in on Draco. He looked at him as if he must have been a mirage and swallowed. 

“Son? Draco, I can’t believe you’re here”, he croaked. 

“Of course I’m here Father, where else would I be?”, he laughed lightly. 

“What’s going on? I haven’t seen you in so long, I-”, Lucius’ voice trailed off as he registered the hand holding his and he looked to his left. 

Hermione dared a small smile but couldn’t quite bring herself to speak yet. Lucius pulled his hand from hers, looked her up and down and turned back to Draco. 

“It’s all true then? The paper from this morning, it’s 2006?” 

Hermione quickly sprang from her chair and half ran to the bathroom, just managing to lift the lid of the toilet before she expelled the contents of her stomach. There was a brief silence in the room before Draco confirmed the answers to his father’s questions. The retching stopped and Hermione tried to calm herself and catch her breath, casting a quick breath freshening charm and heading back to her doom. 

Lucius looked past Draco to the bathroom doorway where Hermione stood. She dared herself to meet his eyes, scared of what she would find there. The look in his eyes was one of pure disdain. He kept them trained on her for a few more seconds before turning to address the healers with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well gentlemen? Would you care to divulge why I am apparently missing eight years of my memory?” 

“Mr. Malfoy, Sir. I’m afraid we’re not quite sure. We believe you have been poisoned which caused damage to your liver and kidneys. It’s possible your memory loss is a side effect of whatever you were dosed with.” 

“You’re not. Quite. Sure?”, he replied in his haughtiest tone. 

“We can confirm that no obliviation has occurred. It just remains to be seen why someone would use a poison with memory loss as a side effect. The damage which occurred to your organs would have ensured your death if your wife had not brought you here. Though most poisons used to kill are usually much faster acting.” 

Draco’ s eyes widened, the cogs in his head turning. 

“What if that wasn’t the intent?” 

“Hmm?” 

“What if whoever did this didn’t intend to kill my father, perhaps we have to consider that the memory loss isn’t the side effect, the damage to his organs was.” 

Healer Thistle seemed to mull this over, “I suppose, it is a possibility worth considering. Long term memory potions are extremely rare though.” 

“Rare, but they do exist.” 

Hermione was listening raptly before a thought came to her and she blurted it out. “Lucius takes a male contraceptive!” 

Lucius scrunched his face up before reddening slightly and glaring at her. 

“Um...thanks for sharing Granger?”, Draco spoke questioningly, stifling a slight chuckle at the look on his father’s face. 

She tutted and rolled her eyes, “No, you don’t understand! What if one of the ingredients in his contraceptive potion reacted to whatever was in the poison?” 

Draco caught on, “If that’s the case then I should be able to determine the memory potion used by ruling out the potions which don’t contain an ingredient which would react with any in the contraceptive potion!” 

“Exactly!” 

Hermione and Draco shared a small look of triumph before looking at Lucius. His gaze focused on Hermione briefly before focusing on Draco. 

“If you’d all be so kind, I’d like to speak to my son privately.” He said imperiously. 

The healers shuffled out of the room and Hermione made to leave, realising he meant her too. 

“Hermione, you should stay -” 

“Miss Granger has no business being here.” 

“She’s your wife.” 

“A wife I have no memory of marrying!” 

“Draco, it’s fine, I’ll be right outside.” Hermione looked to Lucius who hadn’t once taken his eyes off Draco, eyes which were drinking him in like a man dying of thirst. She recognised his need to speak to the son who, in his mind at least, he hadn’t seen nor heard from in half a year. As much as it pained her, she also recognised that her presence would do nothing to soothe him and given that he was recovering from serious injury, it would be best for him to be kept as calm as possible. 

“She has every legal right to be here, and what’s more, you would want her here.” Draco said emphatically to Lucius as soon as the door had closed. 

“We will get to that.... matter later. For now, I just wish to speak to you. I.....I have missed you, son.” 

“We actually had dinner together yesterday”, Draco said lightheartedly. 

“I know you may not believe me but there is much that I regret. A great deal. I’m.... I’m deeply sorry Draco for-” 

“Father, there’s no need.” 

“There is every need.” 

“I just mean that we’ve actually done this before. You apologised, I forgave you.... in time.” 

“I see.” 

Draco gave his father a small smile and they both enjoyed a minute's quietude in each other’s company before Lucius spoke. 

“Nevertheless, it is good to see you, Draco. Tell me, what have you been doing with yourself?” 

“Well, I stayed in France for around three years where I studied under Benoit Beauregard.” 

“You’re a potions master? I’m sure Severus would be proud.” 

“I like to think so. He left me all his academic journals and personal research; you know.” 

“I wasn’t aware of that, but I can think of no one better to honour his memory.” 

With a sad smile Draco continued to update his father on the main points of his life over the past eight years. Lucius was especially pleased to hear that Draco was actively involved in Malfoy Industries, something he had never shown great interest in before. The few potions he had invented himself were patented and distributed through the company and Draco spent most of his working days happily toiling away in the manor’s cellar which had been converted into a potions lab. 

Lucius allowed himself to feel a stab of pride at the man his son had become. He was self-aware enough to recognise that he had been a poor father. He always thought that he would do a better job than Abraxas at fatherhood but when push came to shove, he was just as distant and demanding as he had been. Could he remember Draco ever being so comfortable in his presence? Happy to just sit with him and.... chat? No, he couldn’t. As Draco spoke, he did his best to observe every detail of his son. The sullen looking, lanky boy was gone. Replaced by a man. A man who was self-assured and confident in himself. His once drawn and pointed face had filled out nicely, his eyes brighter than he remembered. He looked chiseled and healthy; the grey pallor that was so visible during the war had disappeared. This was all he’d ever wanted for his son, healthiness, happiness and fulfilment. At least he seemed fulfilled in the professional sense. 

“Tell me Draco, you’ve made no mention of it so far but is there anyone of import in your life?” 

“Anyone of import?”, Draco questioned, confusion evident in his voice. 

“Yes, a special someone you might want to inform your father of?” 

Draco gave an exaggerated sigh and roll of his eyes. 

“Merlin, don’t start. You sound just like mother. No, I do not have a significant other, alright?!” 

Lucius raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender, “Alright.” 

Draco smirked slightly before replying, "Besides, you took up the mantle for me, old man. You’re the loved-up family man out of the Malfoy’s.” 

Lucius would only grit his teeth in response. 

“You don’t want to address the elephant in the room then?”, Draco pushed. 

“The elephant in the room? What sort of nonsense phrase is that?!” 

“A muggle one, I believe.” 

“This is what I’ve always told you, Draco. You open the doors to the riff raff and the rot sets in!” 

“I think you’re being a little dramatic.” 

“A little dramatic? I wake up to find I have a mudbl-” 

“Careful.” 

“-muggleborn for a spouse. Quite possibly the most famous muggleborn there is at that.” 

“Well, you did always impress upon me that only the best would do for a Malfoy.” 

Lucius shot a withering glare at Draco which seemed to have little effect on him at all. As much as he was pleased that his son had come into his own as a man and their relationship was clearly much improved, he was admittedly not impressed with the level of insolence he now felt comfortable displaying towards him. He sighed. 

“Please explain how a marriage between Miss Granger and I came to be.” 

“The extremely edited version of it is that you met again when you started working together. You eventually developed a friendship, you fell for her and began trailing after her like a lovesick puppy - she, of course remained oblivious until she also realised her own feelings, you both confessed your undying love for each, married soon after and lived happily ever after. Ta da!”, he finished his rushed story with a flourish of jazz hands. 

Lucius gave a deliberate slow blink. He’d never seen Draco quite so animated before. It was exhausting. 

“We worked together.... am I to understand she had a position at the company? I can’t imagine I’d pursue a relationship with an employee.” A muggleborn employee. 

“No, you met when you shared an office at the ministry. It was part of your probationary terms that you worked in a position of the Minister’s choosing within the ministry.” 

“Then... we only met three years ago?” 

“Ahh, no Father. You only served eighteen months of your house arrest.” 

“How did I manage that?”, he asked, feeling rather pleased with himself that he’d managed to subvert the sentencing of the Wizengamot. 

“I hate to break it to you, but it wasn’t shortened of your own design. Hermione would probably be best to explain it to you.” 

Draco could sense his father’s reluctance to meet with Hermione properly and sought to encourage him. 

“Father, I realise this must be tremendously difficult for you. But I can assure you that the pair of you truly are well matched. She brings out the best in you.” 

Lucius harrumphed in reply. 

“Come now, Father. Sulking is not becoming of a Malfoy.” 

No, he did not care for this newfound insolence. Not one bit. 

“I know that bragging is not becoming of a Malfoy either, but I am exceptionally good at what I do. I promise that I will do all I can to restore your memory to you. In the meantime, I implore you to please be good to Hermione. When all this is over, you’d be devastated if you’d upset or mistreated her in any way.” 

Lucius searched Draco’s face and saw only sincerity. His son really had matured. A family crisis had occurred and he was doing his best to step into the breach and right the ship. He felt that stab of pride dig a little deeper into his chest. He did his best to force a slight smile onto his face and nodded. 

“Right, I’ll leave you alone for a little while. I’m going to speak to Hermione.” 

While Lucius and Draco were catching up, Healer Thistle had returned to speak with Hermione. He expressed that in his professional opinion, Lucius was healing well and would best recuperate at home. Progress on his loss of memory could be monitored from home and a familiar setting could only benefit him. The brief elation she felt at being able to take her husband home was tempered by a certain amount of trepidation. He couldn’t hide his distaste for her, how would he react to cohabiting with his muggleborn wife? Their home had become her sanctuary, it was where she was most happy. She couldn’t bear the thought of Lucius casting aspersions on the happy home and life they had built together. 

“Hermione?”, Draco interrupted her thoughts. 

“Mm?” 

“Father wants to see you.” 

“He wants?” 

“Well...” 

“Look Draco -” 

“What do you want to tell him about -” 

“That’s what I was about to say. I don’t want to tell him about her just yet.” 

“Hermione, you can’t keep it from him. She is his daughter.” 

“Yes, his half-blood daughter born to his muggleborn wife.” 

Draco winced. 

“You know as well as I do that his world revolves around that little girl. I know he’d never forgive himself if he rejected her or even thought anything disparaging towards her.” 

“OK. I see your point.” 

“Besides, Healer Thistle just came by and said we could take him home, but we shouldn’t overwhelm him too soon.” 

“That’s good news. I have to ask though, how exactly do you plan on keeping her secret from him? There are photos of her strewn all around the house. Not to mention her toys, her bedroom and your gobby little elf.” 

Hermione chose to ignore his jab at her sweet little elf. “I’ll ask Daphne and Theo if they don’t mind Aurelia staying with them for a little while longer. She was so excited to be having a sleepover at her godmother’s last night, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled. I’ll have you know that Tippy, while excitable is perfectly capable of exercising restraint and discretion. I’ll explain the situation to her, tell her not to mention Aurelia to Lucius and have her remove traces of her from the house for the time being.” 

“If you’re sure.” 

“I am.” 

Draco cast a sceptical glance over at Hermione, who seemed to be valiantly fighting a new flow of tears. 

“Hermione, I know this must be unbearably difficult for you. But as I just promised Father, I’m going to do everything I can to help fix this. This won’t be forever, not if I can help it. Besides, we’re the wealthiest family in Britain, we’ll consult the best experts in the field. To every potion there must be an antidote, and I’m going to find it.” 

She was struck by how grateful she was for Draco in this moment. Her gratitude also stemmed to the fact that yes, she was part of the wealthiest family in Britain. She’d had a comfortable upbringing, the only child of two dentists with a successful surgery and over the years she’d grown used to the riches that surrounded her. How different and more unbearable this situation would be if they didn’t have all these resources at their fingertips. 

“You’re right. Thanks Draco.” 

“Of course I’m right. Look, why don’t you go in and see Father, let him know what’s happening. I can execute everything on your hitlist and get everything straightened out.” 

Before she could say anything to the contrary, suddenly terrified at the prospect at being alone with her husband, Draco was turning and making his way to the floos. 

“I won’t be long!”, he called over his shoulder. 

Hermione took a moment to compose herself, brushed a few flyaway hairs from her face and gave a quick knock of warning on the hospital door before letting herself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter. I hope you like my characterisation of Draco, I was going for mature but with affable, boyish charm!


End file.
